Uab Bak Am Neteru
by Firemoon
Summary: 4! Ancient Egyptian setting. Malik is a son of a priest, vowed not to have anything to do with sexual affairs. Ryou is a seductive demon searching for an innocent victim to corrupt. Well, let's say the Inevitable happens. RyouMalik yaoi in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1: New Life

**Disclaimer: **See my bio.****

**Summary:** Malik is the adopted son of a priest, vowed not to have anything to do with sexual affairs.. Ryou is a seductive demon searching for an innocent prey to corrupt.. Well, let¡¯s say the inevitable happens.

**Rating:** R for sexual content in later chapters.

**Pairing:** Ryou x Malik

**Category:** Romance/General

**A/N:** This is for a fanfiction challenge in which I need to complete this ff in 2 MONTHS. So the other fics will be temporarily shut off until I finish this fic. Thank you for your support.

**A/N 2:** The title means ¡°Pure is thy soul among the gods¡±. I just couldn¡¯t find any good title, and besides, I thought it kind of suited the story. *grins*

---

**Uab Ba-k Am Neteru**

**By. Firemoon**

---

**Chapter 1: New Life**

Ptahotep carefully arranged the spotted leopard skin thrown over his shoulder as he quickly walked towards the Temples. It was nearly time, if not right now, to light the incenses and scented oils and chant the sacred scripts to the scribe god Thoth, and he also desperately needed a bath as quickly as possible. He had been out picking lotuses for the following procession at early tomorrow morning for the Nile God Hapi and for the prosperity of the crops for this year. 

But unfortunately, he had slipped and fell, much to the delight of other assistants who tagged along to help with the picking. He had always known that he wasn¡¯t meant for any bodily work. He was a scribe and recorder, through and through. Ptahotep chuckled. He guessed that it was all his namesake¡¯s influence, the great scribe Ptahotep of the time of Izezi Djedkare.

_Now_ he was soaking wet and covered in mud from knee down, including his _new_ leather sandals. By Horus, it was not even two days worn! The dark-skinned priest-scribe quickened his pace, and at the same time, he was trying to look as if he was not hurrying at all. A priest must be calm, composed and dignified at all times. He must _not_ forget that or the Elders will punish him severely.

He grimaced as his wet sandals made ungraceful noises, slapping noisily to let everyone within the earshot that Ptahotep, a priest-scribe of the god Ptah, was _hurrying_. Then a figure caught his eye – by the way, his eyes were greenish blue which the other priests said that they seemed to penetrate into people¡¯s very soul -, a thing helplessly trying to crawl up the high marble stairs, wrapped up in dirty rags and clutching something in its arms. 

Ptahotep stopped in his tracks, biting his lower lip in silent commotion inside his mind. The chanting was already starting inside the temple, and this would be the third time in two weeks that he was late. The elders will be extremely angry. He would be punished quite – very, in fact - severely, if he did not go now. But on the other hand...

Then, with a keening cry, the bundle in the creature¡¯s arms slipped from its grasp, and fell onto the ground with a soft thump. 

A baby.

Ptahotep¡¯s eyes widened. The baby did not stop crying, and rather it exploded into even more loud, if that is possible, wailing. He also noticed that the creature had slid off the stairs itself and lay in a heap on the ground near the baby, shaking silently. The raspy breathing of the creature could be heard even over the loud but monotonous – almost hypnotizing - chanting of the priests. Ptahotep ran towards the creature and the baby, his wet sandals making loud slap-slapping noises, abnormally loud in his ears as they echoed around the darkening square. No one was out at this time when one should be giving offerings to the Sacred Beings.

The dark haired priest skidded to an ungraceful halt beside the creature, nearly tripping over in his hastiness. Just ignoring the unkempt state he was in, he knelt in the dirt beside the creature. He turned the creature over, and gasped out aloud at what he saw. The creature was a woman, a young woman of mid-twenty turns and quite beautiful, even through his naïve priestly eyes.

Her hair was dark, black as the sky in the middle of a moonless night, and her eyes were the darkest shade of blue. She had lightly tanned skin that looked soft to the touch. The green-eyed priest immediately recognized her as the famous Taheret, who was known to be quite a popular whore, even in this godly area of Karnak. Ptahotep quickly removed his hand, feeling dirty and soiled. The young woman¡¯s eyes flicked helplessly as she struggled to sit up, her hands moving listlessly in futile attempt to reach for the baby. She pointed to the baby and uttered only one word over and over again, until the dark-skinned priest finally realized that the word was the baby¡¯s name.

¡°Setnakht.. Setnakht..¡±

¡°So, he is...your baby?¡±

The woman¡¯s hands dropped to the ground, and her head rolled to the side as if relieved of a great heavy burden. Her raspy breathing continued, and she squeezed out some more words, broken slightly by her uneven breathing.

¡°Take.. baby.. teach.. please..¡±

¡°You want him to grow up to be a priest?¡±

Ptahotep asked, incredulous; no one really wanted to be one of the priests of Karnak. The rules were too strict for most of the young folks to follow. He himself had grown up in the Temples, so he did not know much about the outside life.

She did not answer, but her blue eyes said it all; _yes_. Ptahotep vaguely understood her, and felt an immediate sympathy towards the young woman. A pretty whore, used by all men and finally left to die alone. A priest¡¯s life of no bodily pleasures will be better off for the boy, then as an orphaned street beggar to be used like his mother at the end, again and again. Ptahotep nodded; he would do everything he can do to keep the child in the Temples, to be grown among the gods, breathing the solemn air of the old. He said gently, his greenish blue eyes warm.

¡°Do not worry, he will be well cared for.¡±

For a second, a full, beautiful smile lit her thin, starved face, her thin frame, and Ptahotep felt an immense pity towards the dark-haired young woman, regretting once more the previous act of stepping away in disgust. He took her hands gently in his own, and started the first chant that came to his mind in _Pert em hru_. 

A chant to guide her and help her safely to the path of the underworld, to the Great god Osiris, towards the Fields of Happiness to live forever.

And before he knew it, her hands between his were as cold as the marble staircase. He quietly let go, and turned towards the little bundle. The crying had quieted down during when the chanting was being spoken, but soft whimpers were still emitted from the little bundle¡¯s depths. Ptahotep carefully picked the baby up, holding him awkwardly.

Slowly, he unwrapped to the point where he could see the baby¡¯s head. A pair of half-closed dusky amethyst eyes were there, large and clear, and a turf of light golden brown hair. The slightly tanned skin was seemingly from his mother. Ptahotep felt a small smile tugging at each end of his lips as he laid his eyes upon this small life, preciously light and warm. 

He carefully re-wrapped the baby, and softly cradling it, started walk up the stairs to the temple. He looked back to the little bundle of warmth held in his arms, and whispered to the baby, half chanting the name to himself.

¡°Setnakht..¡±

They disappeared into the temple of Hathor, where the elders normally were, soaking in the warmth and love of the goddess.

---

¡°So, Ptahotep..¡±

One of the elders implored gently, his dimmed old blue eyes gazing sagely out from among the folds of his earthy brown cloak. The dark-skinned priest gulped, sitting stiffly on one of the chairs, the baby still held in his arms. The other elders were merely looking at the Old One, their expressions hard and unreadable. The Old One mumbled to himself as the elders often do, and finally spoke out.

¡°Then, the name¡¯s Setnakht?¡±

¡°Yes, my lord the High Priest.¡±

The Old One¡¯s face softened at the sight of the sleeping baby. Such pure, innocent beings, children are. The baby sighed, snuggling into the folds of his clean white wrappings. Ptahotep began to feel relaxed as he saw the Old One reach out his bony, wrinkled hands for the child, and he handed over the little baby without a moment of hesitation or reluctance. He knew the High Priest of Karnak would not harm the little one.

With a jolt, the boy baby awakened with a start, but did not cry or make a noise as the dark-skinned priest-scribe had feared. The baby looked into the milky blue eyes of the old High Priest, curiously blinking. And slowly, the baby reached out a hand, surprisingly small and delicate, to touch the High Priest¡¯s curved eagle nose. The Old One¡¯s face broke out into a warm smile at that simple touch, and the baby giggled innocently, dusky amethyst eyes following the High Priest¡¯s fingers¡¯ moves as he wagged them in front of the baby¡¯s face. The High Priest turned his face towards the occupants of the room.

¡°He will stay.¡±

¡°But my lord the High Priest..¡±

One of the elders – the strictest one in all of the Two Lands – stood up indignantly, his face slightly red in the torchlight. His dark eyes were narrowed in obvious distaste.

¡°But my lord, the baby is a illegitimate son of a wh—¡±

_¡°SILENCE!¡±_

The Old One thundered, surprisingly loud for one so thin and old. He gripped the carved staff in his hand tightly, the other arm still holding Setnakht closely. The baby blinked, slightly surprised by the loud noise. The High Priest stared at the dark eyed priest with a pair of hardened blue chips of eyes.

¡°He will stay, Sabni. Do you dare defy _my_ decision and, in doing so, _me_?¡±

¡°No, no, my lord High Priest. I was just—I beg you to forgive me, my lord.¡±

¡°You are forgiven. Take your seat.¡±

Sabni, the Head Priest of Aten, flushed, and hastily sat down after bowing to the High Priest, murmuring apologies. The High Priest looked around, the eyes, dimmed but wise and piercing, searched each of the elders¡¯ faces. No one spoke up, or looked away. Then, the old priest sagged, sighing tiredly and handed back the baby over to the green eyed priest-scribe. Ptahotep received the baby with ready hands. The High Priest instructed the priest of Thoth as to where he should take the young one.

¡°You will take the baby to the Training Quarters, East building, and there the Priestess Yunet and the Priestess Esemkhebe will take care of our newest – and, if I am thinking correctly, youngest - apprentice. They are the Mistresses of the Young, as I recall.¡±

¡°Yes, my lord High Priest.¡±

Ptahotep bowed formally, green eyes warming at the little life in his arms. The High Priest chuckled, his rough brown wrinkled skin almost undistinguishable from the thick cloak that surrounded him. He waved one jewel bedecked hand dismissively. One of the rings with a thumbnail sized ruby glinted in the torchlight like a winking red eye. 

The High Priest¡¯s own blue eyes flickered towards the little bundle, and he too, nodded to the dark skinned, green eyed priest, bidding him goodnight. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he had hoisted himself up and was walking into the innermost quarters of priests¡¯ sleeping area. His ornately carved staff made loud, tick ticking noise on the sandstone floor. His thick earthy brown cloak also made a stealthy, slithering snakelike noise as it was dragged along the floor.

As he walked, the minor priest of the Temple walking behind him obediently, the High Priest of Karnak murmured to himself, his old, faded mind going out to the youngest priest in training who was currently snuggled to Ptahotep as he was carried to the Training Quarters.

¡°May the gods protect you, Setnakht...¡±

With a dull thud, the massive wooden door of the High Priest¡¯s room closed shut.

_---_

_..Ok, I know, I¡¯ve made a shitty job out of it. And there¡¯s nothing r-rated.. yet. *smirks* Anyway, Setnakht is, if you didn¡¯t notice, the past Ancient Egyptian form of Malik. *a suspicious sounding dull thud* I know, just kill me please before I ruin the characters any furthur. *hands the readers an axe*_

_But please, review! [flames welcome!] I really want some reviews and criticisms for this ff, so PLEASE!_

_Yours Faithfully Fanfictional,_

_Firemoon_

**_OH, ANOTHER THING: Ok, dear spiderweb-san, this is shown as 2,187 words in my Microsoft word. IT seems that the ff.net is cutting huge chunks off the number.. *growls* Anyway, this IS 2,187 words long._**


	2. Chapter 2: The Taking of the Vow

**Disclaimer: **See my bio. But I don¡¯t own any of the stuff here.****

**Summary:** A fanfic challenge of spiderweb. Malik is the adopted son of a priest, vowed not to have anything to do with sexual affairs.. Ryou is a seductive demon searching for an innocent prey to corrupt.. Well, let¡¯s say the inevitable happens. First Ancient Egyptian setting, then moves onto Post Battle City.

**Rating:** R for sexual content and violence in later chapters.

**Pairing:** Ryou x Malik [Seme x Uke]

**Category:** Romance/General

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**Uab Ba-k Am Neteru**

**By. Firemoon**

---

**Chapter 2: The Taking of the Vow**

The sun Ra was nearly down beyond the horizon, ready to be swallowed by Nut and reborn again next morning, with all his brilliance returned. The sky was stained brightly, a mix of red, orange, yellow and gold. On the opposite side of the sun, the night was already invading the sky, and few stars, Ra¡¯s children, was already out, winking innocently and wisely to the mortals below. 

Ptahotep started packing all the fishing equipments away, swiftly coiling the fishing line around the slender, willowy fishing rods. The fish caught today – all good fat ones that would do nicely for tonight¡¯s dinner - were threaded neatly, already gutted and scaled taken off by the nimble hands of the priest-scribe. 

Beside him a boy of about 13 stood silently, silently observing the priest working and often offering to help, putting away the baits and later carrying the rods in his arms as they walked back to the temples. His soft golden curls swayed around his face, and softly brushing against his bare shoulders. A simple golden amulet charm of Horus¡¯ eye was hung around his slender neck, and he also wore the loincloth of apprentice priests, dyed a sandy golden colour. Something that hadn¡¯t been seen for decades in the Temples.. until Setnakht came along one night.

---

After storing the fishing equipments safely in Ptahotep¡¯s quarters, the dark skinned priest took Setnakht towards the boy¡¯s own quarters and made him get changed to a clean loincloth, out of the one that was stained with water and mud. Then Ptahotep ushered the golden brown haired boy out to the courtyard, and started marching brusquely up to the other side of the Temples. The boy nearly had to jog to keep up with the tall, dark skinned priest. The boy finally got the older man to slow down, and Setnakht asked nervously; it wasn¡¯t every day that you wear one of your best linen loincloth and go deeper into the Temples where the main gods and goddesses of the Two Lands stayed.

¡°Where are we going, Tep?¡±

The dusky lavender eyed priest in training asked anxiously, the eyes looking unnaturally wide with barely concealed nervousness. Ptahotep smiled down at Setnakht, gently taking his hand. The boy was only thirteen summers old, and already the golden brown haired boy had the attributes of a priest, loving to learn and worship the gods. All these long years within the Temples, the dark skinned priest had not heard the boy utter a single complaint.

The lavender eyed boy was the youngest in among the priests in the Temples by well over 10 years. Everybody loved him, treating the young priest in training as each one of them¡¯s younger brother, a son, a nephew. But even with all the fawning upon-s, Setnakht had grown up to be a fine, reserved boy, not like the boys his own age running rampage around the town down below, last time he heard.

The boy nervously tugged on the tightly knotted sash of his sand golden loincloth. Ptahotep took the boy¡¯s fidgeting hand in his own, and the golden brown haired boy looked up, voice, despite his nervousness, - or because of it – soft.

¡°The sunset is beautiful this evening.¡±

His dusky amethyst eyes stained orange as the red golden rays of the setting sun reflected in his eyes. His golden hair, similar to his eyes, was also shimmering curls of red-orange. Ptahotep spoke up, his earrings jingling slightly as he turned his head towards the young priest in training.

¡°We¡¯re going to the Temple of Ma¡¯at, Setnakht.¡±

¡°To the Truth goddess?¡±

Setnakht¡¯s voice rose to an ungraceful and out of character squeak, but the dark skinned priest understood; the Truth goddess¡¯ temple was not a very comfortable place to be in, Rather, it was too.. unnerving. Of course, it was the duty of mortal kind to hold the law of Ma¡¯at high, to always preserve the Truth and Justice, but the human nature, always born slightly corrupted, would not allow itself to be collected and calm in the presence of the pure essence of Truth and Justice, however the humankind may adore the two essential values. Ptahotep and Setnakht started walking towards the limestone temple looming far away on the other side of the great courtyard, the greenish blue eyed priest carefully explaining the process of the Making of the Vow to the wide eyed priest in training.

¡°You are to take your Vow as an official priest in training of the Temples of Karnak.¡±

¡°Vow?¡±

¡°We, the priests of Karnak, always take this Vow when we turn 13, which you have turned only last week. And no, we don¡¯t shave off our hairs yet.¡±

Ptahotep grinned down at the small worried face of the little one below.

¡°We take another Vow at the age of 17, and that¡¯s when we cut off our hair and shave the rest off.¡±

¡°Hm..¡±

There was a short silence while the two slowly walked towards the Temple of Ma¡¯at, the river Nile glittering like a mass of broken shards of glass in between the numerous temples. Setnakht looked up, the violet eyes still holding nervousness.

¡°Tep?¡±

¡°Yes, Little one?¡±

¡°Do I _have_ to get the tattoo?¡±

Ptahotep mused silently, a finger making a twirling motion, tracing an imaginary lines and curves on the golden brown haired boy¡¯s left cheek where the tattoo would be after this night, identical to his own. He soothed the boy¡¯s nerves with his calm, gentle voice.

¡°It is the symbol of your devotion and love for gods, your faith in the Eternal Beings, Setnakht. We all feel proud of the tattoo, and we felt the same when we got them.¡±

Setnakht sighed, the golden curls slipping from the confinements of a thin leather cord around the boy¡¯s head. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and gentle, as usual. But there was a certain amount of fierceness in it.

¡°I know, Tep. I love the gods. I love the Temples, I love all the people in here. I want to be a priest, spending the rest of my life in here, among the gods and serving them, until I finally go to the Hall of the King of the Dead, but...¡±

The boy¡¯s voice trailed down to a mere nothing, and a sudden wind gushed, making their loincloths, the dark skinned priest¡¯s leopard skin and Setnakht¡¯s golden brown curls whip around madly. Ptahotep looked down worriedly at the boy, walking silently with eyes downcast. If the boy refuses to take the tattoo, he would be banished from the Temples, and possibly from Karnak, doomed for eternity..

¡°Tep?¡±

The dark skinned priest-scribe started, and looked down, his greenish blue eyes blinking confusedly, almost like an owl. Setnakht smiled, a serene, gentle smile of a person who is with the Gods and at peace, and silently held out a lightly tanned hand for the priest to take. Ptahotep then realized how tall the boy had grown; now he nearly reached the priest¡¯s shoulder, and he was considered rather tall. Setnakht said softly, eyes drifting dreamily over to the drowsy Nile.

¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±

---

Setnakht was taken to the Grooming Chambers, and there he was washed, oiled, perfumed, dressed, and ornamented with simple armbands and necklaces and also with instruments needed for the ritual. The boy was still quite tense, but the scented oil had taken away a part of the nervous tension, and now Setnakht found himself getting drowsy as he looked around at the flickering mass of candles. But he had to stay awake. He _must_.

Setnakht shook his head a few times to clear his fuzzy vision, the loopy earrings sending cold shivers against his skin that made him shudder. But soon, the pair of the golden shiny metal loops were warmed by the head from his body, and Setnakht sighed as his mind again tried to fall back to the oblivion of dreams, the messenger of gods, the representative of hidden thoughts, the mirror of emotions.

But they were instantly banished as he was led out by the arm into the pale pink limestone hall of the goddess Ma¡¯at. The priests made him kneel in front of the image of the goddess of truth, carved delicately into the wall. The cold, freezing stone beneath him was enough to wake him up as was the holy, invisible presence of the Ethereal Being who was gazing down mysteriously with her onyx black eyes at him.

Setnakht felt a cool, ghostly touches of the priest¡¯s hands on his shoulder as each one of them slowly exited by the door, one by one, and the golden haired boy was feeling quite a lot more reassured than before. But very sooner than he wished to be, he was alone. The sweet, heady incense finally burnt out after a long while, but it seemed to be very short for the golden haired priest in training. 

The candles flickered, and in Setnakht¡¯s eyes, the goddess on the wall seemed to be moving, beckoning softly at him with her winged, outstretched arms to come closer. Setnakht stood up, wobbling slightly because of the previously cut off blood circulation to his legs, but he managed to stand on his feet, though he swayed slightly as if drunk. He staggered up closer to the goddess of Truth and All Good. 

His dusky violet eyes were now tinted distinctively onyx black. Those eyes now looked up, meeting the goddess¡¯ dark eyes, staring back at him from her place in the stone wall, and his lips formed words and chants that he had never learned before.

¡°I am thy servant, Feather of Righteousness, goddess of Balance between Evil and Good, Truth, and Justice.¡±

Slowly, Setnakht¡¯s seemingly possessed form pressed his hands on the cool stone, against the outstretched hands of the goddess, his left cheek pressed into her face. His lithe form fitted right into the slender, fragile form of Ma¡¯at. His golden eyelashes fluttered as he closed them, his body so still so that the priest in training did not even seem to be breathing. The flames of the candles flickered again by an unknown wind from somewhere deep inside the temple, and one of them went out this time with a strand of pale smoke, barely visible.

Then , Setnakht detached himself from the goddess¡¯ image with a gasp, breath being sucked in with great heave. He tentatively trailed his finger onto the coiling marks that was the mark of priests and priests in training of Karnak, painfully blood red against his tanned light mocha skin. He fell to his knees as the invisible power of the goddess again overtook him, and he blindly chanted, barely audible, the Vow of the priests of Karnak passing through his mind like hissing arrows, each word deeply embedding itself into Setnakht¡¯s mind and _ba_.[1] Setnakht, still chanting the breathy words, grabbed for the dagger already being heated over the little fire, his movements seemingly unconscious and sluggish. The blade was white hot, but fortunately, a thick cover of leather protected the handle, so the holder¡¯s hand was not burnt.

Raising the white hot blade to his left cheek, Setnakht carved the flesh there, expertly tattooing the smooth skin. His eyes were unblinking, blank and clouded dark murky violet. He did not make a sound even as the hot metal scorched into his skin, bursting the flesh, the tip digging flawlessly into the exact same coils and curves that the blood red lines had made previously. 

Soon, the blood was silently but relentlessly dribbling from the opened gashes, just a horrible, coiling mass of lines. Setnakht then dropped the dagger carelessly into the bowl of water beside the fire where the dagger had been heated on. The metal made hissing and sizzling noises as it sank into the depths of the cool water in the earthenware bowl.

Setnakht then staggered up, and the wide, dusky lavender eyes met the dark, brooding gaze of the goddess, who was silently observing the priest in training from her place in the wall. His cleared eyes closed, and he slid to the floor with a faint whimper, the searing pain finally awakening and ramming into his whole body. The flames flickered over his unconscious form.

_---_

_[1] _Ba _is a spiritual term that can be closely [but not quite] translated to the soul of a person. Another word to imply this is _ka _but I generally think of this as a kind of aurora of someone¡¯s spirit, so _ba_ suited better here._

_Yay! I¡¯m done with the second chappie! *dances around madly, grabbing Yami Bakura for a dance along the way* *Yami Bakura smacks her on the head with the butt of the axe from chapter 1* Ouch.. yeah, this is the Vow-Taking bit.. sorry I left out the text of the actual vow.. couldn¡¯t make it sound good. I¡¯ve been trying to write it for the ENTIRE WEEK but found myself couldn¡¯t, went ES and to Yami Malik Berserk Mode. [which means I start smashing stuff with my baseball bat, pretending that it¡¯s the Sennen Rod and stuff.] [Also includes laughing insanely and trying to kill other people]_

_Thanks to: **dangerousgirl** – yeah, they will come out.. eventually. *evil grin* Thanks for the support! **spiderweb** – yay! Thanks for the review and compliment! Also thanks for adding this to your fav list! I love you for posting this challenge! *hugs* **ferocity **– er, these names are from an AUTHENTIC Egyptian name site that I found on internet. And I personally thought it was pretty easy to pronounce.. not that it matters because this is meant to be read [with eyes], not read [aloud]. But BIG THANKS to you for your really helpful comment. Thanks! **alostblackcat** – Hey, thanks mighty for the review. Really appreciate all the support! *sniff sniff* **lotus re-incarnate** – a REALLY BIG THANKS to you for reviewing this fic! Hope you found this chapter worthy enough.. And Bakura.. mmm.. *drools* **Impish Pixie** – Thanks mighty for reviewing! I know.. chibi Malik.. cute.. *cuddles Yami Bakura, who again smacks her*_

Thanks everyone, and review! [constructiveflames with reasons accepted/others without reasons will be used to burn Yami Yugi. *evil laughter*]

_Yours Faithfully Fanfictional,_

_Firemoon_


	3. Chapter 3: The Revealed Astonishment

**Disclaimer: **See my bio. I don¡¯t know who owns Yu Gi Oh exactly, but it¡¯s not me, that¡¯s for sure.****

**Summary:** Malik is the adopted son of a priest, vowed not to have anything to do with sexual affairs.. Ryou is a seductive demon searching for an innocent prey to corrupt.. Well, let¡¯s say the inevitable happens. First Ancient Egyptian setting, then moves onto Post Battle City.

**Rating:** R for sexual content and violence in later chapters.

**Pairing:** Ryou x Malik [S x U] for current Ancient Egyptian setting. More pairings will be listed further.

**Category:** Romance/General

**A/N:** A fanfic challenge of spiderweb-san! Lemon will be around next chapter or the chapter after.. *leers at Malik and Ryou*

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**Uab Ba-k Am Neteru**

**By. Firemoon**

---

**Chapter 3: The Revealed Astonishment**

Setnakht woke up with only one of his eyes open, and was instantly alarmed by his seemingly impaired vision. The sole dusky lavender eye blinking with confusion, he gingerly fingered the left side of his head, finding the left side of his face completely wrapped tightly with crisp, white bandages. He tried to sit up, but fell back onto the bed, crying out loud, as his side burned with stinging pain. 

Upon feeling for with his fingers, Setnakht found a thick bandage wrapped around his torso, yellowed with having been soaked within medicine and various powders to make as the remedy against the pain from burns. The typical smell of the burn salve – smell of finely ground nuts with bitter scent – crept up the golden haired priest in training¡¯s nose, and Setnakht sneezed, grimacing as another pain from the motion swept through his whole body. A few tears squeezed their way out of his clenched shut eye as he fought back a scream.

Then, a soft touch on his shoulder made him open his eyes and look up. It was Ptahotep, looking down at him with his usual, calm and compassionate greenish blue eyes. The dark skinned priest sat beside the young boy, pulling a stool closer to the bed.

¡°How are you feeling, young one?¡±

¡°Wha—what happened?¡±

Setnakht groaned, holding his head with his hands. He couldn¡¯t remember anything; all he remembered from last night – or was it the night before last? What day was today? How long has he been here like this? – was kneeling in front of the goddess, and the cool, ghostly touches of the priests¡¯ hands..

¡°When you fainted after you had completed the Taking of the Vow, one of the candles were knocked over and splashed the hot wax onto your side.¡±

Setnakht tried to frown, but winced as his bandaged left cheek sent out shooting pains throughout his entire head. The young priest in training felt as if somebody was trying to axe his head in half.

¡°But it¡¯s not a very bad one, so the burn will heal in a couple of days, although your tattoo won¡¯t heal for a few weeks or so.¡±

¡°My tattoo? But-¡±

¡°But what, Setnakht?¡±

¡°I don¡¯t remember getting it.¡±

Setnakht said softly, looking down at his hand. Did he do it? Did one of the priests? But they had all left, didn¡¯t they? He closed his eyes. Everything was so confusing. There was nothing solid about this whole affaire, nothing to grab hold on to. 

Ptahotep looked silently down at the boy, observing him. He nearly had had a heart attack when he and the other priests arrived and found the frail form of the golden haired boy unconscious, a burn on his side, blood soaking into the fine linen loincloth and into the silky golden brown curls on his head, matting them as the crimson life dried. But now, Ptahotep thought, the boy was, or looked, well enough to eat something.

¡°How long have I been asleep?¡±

¡°About 3 days.¡±

Setnakht winced again; he had missed the ritual for his namesake god, Set. He would have to fast again in the Temple of the god of Darkness [1] as soon as he recovered, to pay tribute to him. Ptahotep noticed it too, and hurriedly thrust a freshly baked, soft wheat bread. He also produced several of Setnakht¡¯s favourite, honeyed figs.

¡°You must be hungry.¡±

¡°Not really, but..¡±

Setnakht¡¯s eyes brightened as he saw the soft, sweet figs, the sweet honey coating glistening in the candlelight. But Ptahotep was not so mushy on the dusky lavender eyed boy this time. He wagged his finger at the boy warningly, tongue clicking.

¡°Tut, tut.. eat the bread first. It is soft enough for you to eat anyway. _Then_ you can eat the figs.¡±

Setnakht pouted slightly, but picked up the bread and ripped them into smaller pieces, occasionally swallowing some. His scarred left cheek prevented him from chewing properly, and Ptahotep watched anxiously as the golden brown haired boy grimaced often, his fingertips tentatively prodding the sore area under the bandage. The dark skinned priest sighed; this would provide some problem.

---

It had been about a month since the Taking of the Vow, and Setnakht cautiously unwrapped the bandage around his face, while sitting outside in the sunny minor courtyard. Other younger priests – but still most of them around mid-twenty or thirty – stood around, occasionally conversing quietly with each other, but mostly watching curiously.

All the priests¡¯ tattoo had the same structure, a spiral, a slash, and few dots, but the tattoos varied between each of the people, often by a stealthy hint. And since they knew every single priest¡¯s tattoo now, everybody was looking forward to seeing the Little One¡¯s mark. Setnakht gulped, closing his eyes as Ptahotep carefully started to unwrap the slightly bloodstained bandage, and felt the warm breeze of the wind and sunlight falling on _all_ of his face. He was so relieved that he nearly laughed out loud. He took several deep breaths before opening his eyes – blinking a few times to prevent Aten¡¯s hands from blinding him – cautiously, as lots of gasps and murmurs were heard around him. 

The priests were all looking at his Vow Mark, and more of them were coming around, gathering in groups to look. Each and every one of them was murmuring discretely with their neighbors. Confused, he looked towards Ptahotep, who was wearing quite the same expression as the others on his dark skinned face – amazement, and shock. The golden brown haired boy reached up from where he was seated, pulling at the hem of the white linen loincloth.

¡°..What is it? Why are you so.. _shocked_?¡±

The dark skinned priest did not say anything, but rather he bent down and grabbing the well polished mirror,[2] held it out for Setnakht to see for himself. The golden haired boy strained to see the dark black tattoo on his cheek, then he, too, gasped, nearly falling off his stool. His violet eyes widened in shock, he touched the Vow Mark with his fingertips.

The usual spiral, the slash, and the two dots were there, same as the traditional tattoos of the other priests of Karnak. That was not the reason for amazement. Rather, it was _how_ they were arranged out, not _what_. The thing that caused waves of shock amongst the priests surrounding the blond haired priest in training were that the spiral, the slash, and the two dots were arranged like the shape of an ankh, with the spiral curled bit for the ¡°head¡±, the ¡°leg¡± of the unraveling spiral for the ¡°body¡± or ¡°leg¡±, and each of the two dots positioned under and over the ¡°arm¡± of the symbol of Gods and of Pharaoh, sign of Eternal Life.

Setnakht still looked at his Vow Mark as if he couldn¡¯t believe his eyes, and the dusky lavender eyes widened further as he noticed that the Old One, the High Priest of Karnak approaching him along with all the Head priests of the Temples. The boy nervously stood up, bowing deeply at the High Priest and the others as they stood, closing in around him. Ptahotep too, bowed – though it was not as deep as the one Setnakht did – and stepped back, giving way to the priests higher up the rank.

The Head priest of Aten frowned as he looked towards the golden brown haired boy¡¯s Vow Mark, and Setnakht flinched under his dark gaze. Sebni, unlike the other priests of the Temples, had not liked him at all, and rather, tried to find faults in the golden brown haired priest in training whenever he could.

_¡®It seems he found a perfect chance.¡¯_

Setnakht thought to himself as he watched as the dark eyed Head priest¡¯s mouth open angrily – seemingly like a dark, huge, big, gaping hole or a cave – almost like a slow motion as the priest spilled out his words hatefully, eyes glaring at the priest in training.

¡°My lord the High priest, I beg you to punish the child, for he has committed a crime. His Vow Mark is an insult and a disgrace to your name and the name of Karnak. He must be—¡±

¡°Insult? Disgrace?¡±

The old High Priest turned incredulously towards the Head priest of Aten, the Sun Disk. His old, brown, wrinkled face held an astonished expression.

¡°My dear Sabni, Ma¡¯at, the Goddess of Balance guides us through the Taking of the Vow. She alone holds the power to give us our Vow Marks. She chooses them for us, not us. The boy has nothing to do with how his Mark had turned out to be, or what it look like. You should have known better to accuse the boy of such crimes, Sabni.¡±

Although his voice was kind, his tone level, the old High Priest of the Temples of Karnak¡¯s eyes were as hard as a pair of chipped turquoise, the goddess Hathor¡¯s jewels. Relieved, Setnakht smiled faintly, secretly sharing a look with Ptahotep not far off.

Sabni flushed angrily. His bony, high cheekbones were speckled with spots of ugly purple and red as he bowed. The veins in his facial muscles were popping out furiously as the dark eyed Head priest bowed again to the High Priest once more, the dark onyx eyes slitted narrowly but radiating seething hate and anger deep enough to boil a big pot full of water or two. The Head priest of Aten respectfully but quickly retreated like a snail into its shell, fearing any more of the High Priest¡¯s wrath upon him.

The High Priest again turned, his blue eyes meeting dusky lavender depths as the older man laid his wrinkled old hand, heavy with jeweled rings, on the boy¡¯s tanned, naked shoulder. The High Priest gruffly commanded.

¡°Sit down, boy. You¡¯re getting too tall for my convenience.¡±

Setnakht hesitated; sitting before the High Priest was not seated yet was a sign of insolence and heavy punishment as the result, even if the High Priest himself had ordered that it be so. The hand on the priest in training¡¯s shoulder tightened a bit more, pushing him down a little.

¡°Sit, Setnakht.¡±

¡°..Your wish is my command, my lord the High Priest.¡±

Setnakht bowed first, before slowly sitting down awkwardly onto the stool he had been occupying previously before the arrival of the Elders. The old Head Priest resumed studying the Vow Mark on the golden brown haired priest in training¡¯s left jawbone. Setnakht flinched, wincing as he felt the High Priest¡¯s rather calloused finger slide over the sensitive, still raw skin around the tattoo, and the old one removed his hand. Slight concern was showing on his face as he looked down on the sitting priest in training.

¡°The Mark will heal in about 2 more days, providing the days are not damp. You must spend days in the sunny, well ventilated area. I shall assign you to a new quarters for the night where it will help to heal the tattoo.¡±

Setnakht sat, dumbfounded. A new quarters?! That was more than enough for the young priest in training, better than spending his days in the sun, without having to polish the faint pink granite floors of the living quarters. Not that he minded, of course. Floor polishing was an important factor in their lives. Clean granite floor mad it easier for the priests to walk upon, as well as making them able to walk on barefoot, but only occasionally. Setnakht at last remembered to pay his respect to the High Priest, and he scrambled up and bowed deeply.

¡°Thank you, O my lord the High Priest. It is truly a great honour for me to be assigned to a new quarters. Thank you!¡±

The last two words were said with such childish enthusiasm and joy that everyone within hearing range had to crack a smile. The Head Priest¡¯s hard turquoise eyes softened a little, a fraction and he raised a finger to the priest in training¡¯s forehead in blessing, before he too, like the other Elders, retreated to the cooler sanctuary of their spacious quarters.

As soon as everybody went back to their work, Setnakht jumped into Ptahotep¡¯s arms, hugging the dark skinned priest tightly around the neck.

¡°Did you hear that Tep?! I¡¯ll be assigned to a new quarters!¡±

¡°Yes, Nakht. I heard it too.¡±

The priest-scribe smiled down at the light haired boy. His greenish blue eyes shone too, but the glimmer died slightly down as he sighed to himself. Setnakht looked up from where he was happily nuzzling into the crook of Ptahotep¡¯s neck, dusky eyes wide with confusion.

¡°What¡¯s wrong, Tep? Don¡¯t you like going to a new quarters?¡±

¡°Of course I like it, except that it will only be you who will be sleeping in that new quarters. I won¡¯t be able to stay with you anymore, I¡¯m afraid.¡±

¡°What? Why?¡±

Ptahotep gently traced the ankh mark on the boy¡¯s cheek, setting the priest in training down onto the solid ground once more.

¡°Because now that you¡¯ve taken the Vow and the Vow Mark, I will no longer be constantly in your charge. You will be asked to serve a certain god or goddesses, and maybe I will be able to spend time with you when both our free time are the same. But from now on, you will be on your own most of the time.¡±

Setnakht¡¯s face fell, and his lower lip trembled as he fought back the tears. Ptahotep.. gone? He was like a father to the priest in training, looking after him since he was young, along with the Mistresses of the Young. He couldn¡¯t bear parting with the calm, gently priest-scribe, no matter what. He hugged the waist of Ptahotep tightly, burying his face into his chest. Ptahotep rubbed his back and his shoulders consolingly.

¡°Hush, it¡¯s alright. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll have lots of time together after this anyhow..¡±

¡°But it¡¯s not the same!¡±

Setnakht wailed, the first tears trickling down his cheeks and stinging his tattoo painfully. Ptahotep quickly wiped the tears away from reaching the Vow Mark, and carefully let a cloth lap up the moisture in the Mark while Setnakht sat in his lap.

¡°You shouldn¡¯t cry now, Setnakht. You¡¯re a big boy now, and crying will make your Vow Mark worse.¡±

¡°If it means that I can stay with you, than I will make it worse.¡±

Setnakht sniffed. The dark skinned priest sighed; was there any way out of this mess?

¡°Yes, but your Vow Mark is a gift, a precious gift from Ma¡¯at, Setnakht. It is an ankh mark, symbol of Eternal Life. It is a very precious gift. You mustn¡¯t let waste to it.¡±

¡°I...I understand.¡±

Setnakht scrubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands, and stood up. He smiled cheerfully at Ptahotep.

¡°I will do really good in my works, Tep. I promise. I won¡¯t cry either.¡±

¡°Good.¡±

Ptahotep smiled back.

¡°Now sit tight here until I bring your dinner. The messenger from the High Priest will come next morning, so you¡¯d better pack your things up after dinner. I¡¯ll help you.¡±

¡°Thanks Tep.¡±

---

_[1] Set was not originally the god of Evil. He was the god of Natural Darkness, like night._

_[2] Did ancient Egyptians have mirrors? I wasn¡¯t sure, but I put it in anyway! Please correct me if I am wrong._

_Whew! Wow, 2535 words!* Yay! [*the story text only] This is – possibly – the longest I¡¯ve ever written other than Itsuka! *grabs Y. Malik for a dance* *Y. Bakura growls, snatches Y. Malik from Firemoon, and they go off to do their.. hmm* Oh yeah, if anyone wants to see how Setnakht¡¯s Vow Mark look like, go and see my bio. There¡¯s a link to my _deviantart.com_ account. K?_

_Thanks to: **Impish Pixie** – thanks a lot for the review! *glomps Y. Bakura* *gets bashed* **jen wit 1 n **– Yay! Thanks mighty for the review! Love ya! *hugs* **spiderweb** – Thanks a lot for the compl. and stuff. I LOVE ancient Egyptian things.. wanna be an archaeologist.. Hmm.. **Aurora of the Moon** – Thanks a LOT for reviewing! Hope you loved this chapter too! **dangerousgirl** – Well.. not this chapter.. but maybe next chapter.. we¡¯ll see. As for the yaoi part.. *evil perverted grin* I¡¯m working on it. But the seduction part is SO FUN! *glomps Setnakht* [S: Hey! Get away from me! Teeeeeeep!!!] **lotus re-incarnate** – Yay! Thanks x100 for the review! Also thanks for the complement/support! Love ya too! *hugs*_

_Yours Faithfully Fanfictional,_

_Firemoon_


	4. Chapter 4: Encounter with a Demon

**Disclaimer: **I don¡¯t own Yu gi oh. I don¡¯t¡¯ own Malik, or Ryou, or Yami, or Seto. I don¡¯t own anything except Ocs in this story, such as Sabni *shudders* and Ptahotep.****

**Summary:** Malik is the adopted son of a priest, vowed not to have anything to do with sexual affairs.. Ryou is a seductive demon searching for an innocent prey to corrupt.. Well, let¡¯s say the inevitable happens. First Ancient Egyptian setting, then moves onto Post Battle City.

**Rating:** R for sexual content and violence in later chapters.

**Pairing:** Ryou x Malik [S x U] for current Ancient Egyptian setting. More pairings will be listed further.

**Category:** Romance/General

**A/N:** A fanfic challenge of spiderweb-san!

**A/N 2:** Ryou comes out here at last!! Yay! *victory dance*

---

**Uab Ba-k Am Neteru**

**By. Firemoon**

---

**Chapter 4: Encounter with a Demon**

¡°Your Majesty.¡±

A brown haired man, clad in blue and white, kneeled in front of the elaborate throne where a figure with tri-coloured hair was seated. The pharaoh Atemu-Yami [1], the Morning and Evening Star, Beloved of Ma¡¯at, Protector of Egypt, Chosen of the God of Light, Lord of the Two Lands [2], rested his chin on his hand, his crimson red eyes seemingly bored. He lazily gestured at the High Priest Seth to stand up, the beetle shaped gold ring with turquoise stone eyes glinting in the sunlight streaming through the open windows.

The blue-eyed High Priest of Annu [3] stood up stiffly, bowing deeply once more before making his statement. The golden rod, symbol that he is one of the close circle of people around the Pharaoh, also glinted brightly in the pouring sunlight.

¡°The borders to the Hittites are quite as the usual, and the Prince of Amurru will be sending precious ivories and other annual gifts for you as usual. I suspect that the offerings will be arriving around next month, providing that some odd Nubian savages do not attack the transporting carts like they did last year. I advise you to send some protective troops to escort the carts--¡±

Atemu-Yami, or Yami, as some of the people close to the youthful 19 year old Pharaoh [4] called him, barely resisted the urge to open his mouth and yawn loudly. The blue eyed, brown haired High Priest always managed to recite his daily report from heart, AND managing to make it sound almost as boring as his old tutor¡¯s arithmetic lessons. Seth ignored the obviously bored tri-colour haired Pharaoh, and continued on of his daily reporting stubbornly.

¡°Also, there had been a news from the High Priest of Karnak..¡±

¡°Karnak? Can we just skip that? You know it too, Karnak always sends some boring old news..¡±

¡°Your Majesty, this is important.¡±

Something in Seth¡¯s cold blue eyes made Yami hesitate. After a short second or two, Yami waved his hand once more in a sign to continue, and Seth coolly started once more.

¡°They had a young priest in training receive the traditional Karnak Vows.¡±

¡°A priest in training? You sure?¡±

¡°Quite sure, your Majesty.¡±

¡°But.. they haven¡¯t had an apprentice priest in almost 20 years!¡±

¡°17 years, to be precise.¡±

Seth corrected the young pharaoh with the usual annoyingly cool calm, and the tri-colour haied teenager sighed, frustrated. Sometimes he found Seth unbearably annoying and hateful, and this was the said sometime.

¡°But that¡¯s not what I had come to inform you about.¡±

¡°Than what is it?¡±

¡°It is the shape of the mark he had received.¡±

¡°What¡¯s wrong with his Ra-damned mark?¡±

Seth frowned; he never liked people to hold the name of the god he served so easily on their tongues, much less say his name in every oath [5] imaginable.

¡°It is said to be the shape of an ankh.¡±

¡°An _ankh_?¡±

Yami jumped up from the throne where he was previously sitting, meeting the gaze of the High Priest directly. Icy blue met and equally icy, but also hot, crimson. Seth¡¯s gaze did not waver. Yami stood there, breathing a little faster then normal. His mind was racing. _Ankh? To a mere _priest in training_? This _can¡¯t_ be! _Yami calmed down after a minute or two, at least on outer appearance. On the surface, he was calm and composed as ever. Inside, he was seething like a volcano, agitated as a wounded lion.

¡°You are not to tell anyone of this, Seth. Nor does the priests of Karnak. Inform them of this. Understood?¡±

¡°Yes, your Majesty. I understand.¡±

¡°Swear it, by your _ka_, by your life and me, your pharaoh.¡±

The brown haired High Priest of Annu, City of Horus, Setherwemenef bowed respectfully, muttering the oath drawn up by the pharaoh earlier. He was thinking the whole while, about this mysterious priest in training and the reaction of the pharaoh. _What was Yami planning?_

---

Setnakht moved easily through the crowd, his lithe and slender form weaving through the throng of people almost effortlessly. Almost. His hair was unbound from its usual thin leather cord, and the light caramel golden brown hair shone in the bright sunlight. The cloudy violet eyes darted excitedly from here to there, striving to take everything in all at once. The elegant, curling Vow Mark tattooed on his left jawline stood up prominently black against his soft mocha tanned skin.

He couldn¡¯t wait to see the things they sold in the stalls! He had always wanted to look at them closely, but Ptahotep, now nearing his fifties and getting _impossibly_ slow, had always stopped him 100 out of 100, dragging the priest in training off back to the Temples in his strong, vice-like grip. But since now he was 16, nearing his seventeenth year, the elders had allowed him to go out alone at last. A delightful half-giggle, half-laughter escaped his lips as he looked around exitedly.

Then, that¡¯s when Setnakht spotted _him_.

He was leaning onto a beam of one of the stalls, arms casually folded in front of his pale alabaster chest and eyes closed as if sleeping. The dark black hair was braided carefully into tiny thin little braids, and in between onyx beads were threaded into the braids, glinting in the sunlight as he moved his head slightly. A light jingling sound as the beads clicked against each other reached Setnakht¡¯s ears.

The pale skin was what fascinated the priest in training the most. It was quite a strange sight in these parts, in a boy. It was too hot and sun¡¯s rays too strong for anyone to not get tanned. His pale chest practically shone, even in a shaded area, and tied around his slender waist was a loincloth even whiter than the youth¡¯s skin, neatly arranged.

Then, the youth opened his eyes and looked straight at Setnakht, through the busily moving crowd of people. At _him_. Setnakht¡¯s breath hitched as he met the youth¡¯s stare. His eyes were.. strange. They were the most curious shade of silvery blue, and the long, curling black eyelashes and kohl eyeliner framed those mysterious depths perfectly.

They stared at each other for a long time, and finally the dark haired youth slowly smiled, his luscious pink lips curving up seductively. Then he was gone.

Setnakht blinked, confused. _Where did he go?_ He looked around, but the pale skinned youth was nowhere in sight. Setnakht felt a compelling urge to just stand there, wait for the mysterious boy to come again, but he was running out of time fast. There were only a few more hours left until the golden haired priest in training had to go back to the Temples. He turned reluctantly, and hurried towards the nearest store, quite unaware of a pair of kohl-rimmed silvery blue eyes watching intently at his every move.

---

Kashta chuckled lowly to himself, amused as he observed the lithe tanned youth in sandy golden loincloth weave through the crowd of densely packed people, his exquisite amethyst eyes shining brightly, the soft light brown curls swaying with every step, every breeze. He felt an immediate liking for the boy. So innocent, so... pure. Kashta loved to _corrupt_ them, their innocence, their light tainted. He licked his lips absentmindedly. He would love to corrupt this little priest in training, and both of them would enjoy it.

Kashta shook his hair, the onyx beads glittering among his dark braids, and walked towards the direction of where the golden brown haired youth had gone. His mind was already working.

---

_¡°How could you?¡±_

Setnakht looked decidedly guilty as he stood there, a thundering, angry Ptahotep looming above him darkly. The reason that the said gentle priest-scribe was so angry was because..

¡°How could you be an hour late to the daily ritual to Bastet?!¡±

¡°I.. I¡¯m so sorry Ptahotep sir.. I lost the track of time..¡±

¡°This is _unacceptable_, Setnakht.¡±

The dark skinned priest of Ptah crossed his arms, greenish blue eyes closed as he thought of a way to somehow punish the young boy in front of him. He opened his eyes finally, looking down at the nervous pair of lavender eyes.

¡°You will go to the temple of Bastet and scrub the area in front of her altar, to seek a pardon to your wrongdoing. Do not expect to sleep until you are done.¡±

Setnakht sighed, but picked up the rag and scented soap water obediently as it was handed to him. Ptahotep watched the golden brown haired priest in training slowly disappear towards the temple of Bastet, and sighed tiredly, already regretting his decision. The cat goddess¡¯s altar was quite wide, and the main hall vast. It would take Setnakht until early next morning to scrub the granite all by himself. But he couldn¡¯t take back his word now, if he wanted to flatten the boy¡¯s ego. Sighing once more, the dark skinned priest retired to his own room.

---

Setnakht struggled to keep his eyes open, all the while scrubbing the smooth stone surface with the rag. He looked around, sighing. It was well over midnight, and he hadn¡¯t even finished half of it! Dusky lavender eyes half closed with sleep, Setnakht dipped the rag into the soap water once more. Then, a low chuckle reached his ears.

¡°Huh?¡±

The golden brown haired boy looked up, seemingly confused. The lavender eyes met silvery blue, and Setnakht gasped, seeing the boy from the market grinning lazily down at him from his place on the shoulder of the statue of the goddess. Setnakht quickly scrambled up, chucking the rag into the soapy water before glaring up at the dark haired boy.

¡°You! Get down from there _this instant_!¡±

Unfazed, the youth merely smiled, straightened up, and slid smoothly down the stone statue, the onyx beads clicking together. The white loincloth slid up slightly to reveal the flawless pale thighs, and Setnakht looked away, blushing heavily. The dark haired youth was standing in front of him the next moment, seemingly out of a thin air, and the lavender eyed priest in training took one step back, strangely conscious of the strange, alluring scent of the boy – honey and lotus.

¡°Yes?¡±

The pale skinned boy said with soothing, melodious voice, almost purring.

¡°Wha.. what are you doing here?¡±

The dark haired youth chuckled seductively, his hypnotizing silvery blue eyes darting up to meet the dusky lavender shade of Setnakht¡¯s.

¡°Why, can¡¯t an Egyptian come in to pray to the gods?¡±

¡°Well..¡±

Setnakht stammered; he found his thoughts slipping away from him like a handful of fine golden sand as the dark haired boy leaned down slightly, putting his hands on both his knees to look at the golden haired boy in the eye once more. The lustrous pink lips were slightly open, giving Setnakht a glimpse of pearly white teeth, the moist pink tongue. His kohl-rimmed silvery blue eyes were half closed, the dark eyeliner and long black eyelashes shadowing them to a dark blue-ish colour.

Setnakht blushed to his neck this time, as he inhaled the sweet scent of the boy. The dark haired boy cocked his head to the side, lips now grinning.

¡°But if I had displeased you, I would be glad to leave to win back your favour.¡±

And, with the faint clicking of his stone beads, he was gone. Only a glimpse of white loincloth and a pale hand was seen before the youth disappeared completely, and Setnakht shivered, feeling both cold and hot at the same time. His mind was crowded with questions. _What was that? Who is he? Why is he...?_

---

_[1] Reference from _Lizeth_-san¡¯s webpage/Spoilers. Thanks!_

_[2] Reference from Ramses saga by Christian Jacq. The ¡°Morning and Evening Star¡± from various movies/manga, and ¡°Lord of the Two Lands¡± a commonly used title of the Egyptian Pharaohs throughout the dynasties._

_[3] Annu is Egyptian name for Heliopolis._

_[4] Let¡¯s say that Yami¡¯s 19, cause I kinda need him to be around Setnakht and Kashta¡¯s age.. and I can¡¯t actually imagine a 25 year old Yami.. yet._

_[5] this oath is as in swearing/profanity = oath thing. Ok?_

_Yay! Kashta is finally out! Love Kashta! *glomps him* Love Setnakht! *glomps the priest in training* Yeah.. *sweatdrops* For everyone who loves our favourite Tomb robber, he¡¯ll be coming out in next chapter! Yay! *hugs Bakura* Hm.. one thing to go over. As I was writing about Ptahotep, I was kind of imagining someone like Rishid.. *grins* Anyone noticed? No?_

_Thanks to:** Lotus re-incarnate **– Wow, thanks A LOT for all the compliment! I love writing about ancient Egypt.. Maybe I¡¯ll write another one after this is over.. *grins* **dangerousgirl** – Yeah, here¡¯s the first seduction part! *drools/glomps Kashta* Thanks again for all the reviews! **Impish Pixie** – Um there ins no god of homosexuality as far as I know in ancient Egypt.. apparently it was forbidden. So there is no connection between Set and Malik¡¯s a/Egyptian name except that Set is one of my favourite Egyptian gods.. He will be called Malik in Post-Battle City later on the story. Well, he¡¯ll have the mark until he dies.. or not? *grins* **jen wit 1 n** – Ah.. thanks! *sweatdrops* **Crystalline Entity** – Wow. Nice penname you¡¯ve got there.. thank you VERY MUCH for the review! Bakura.. mmm.. *drools* **spiderweb** – Yay, Ryou-chan came out! *victory dance* I love his eyes, don¡¯t you? And onyx beads! *drools* **Egyptian_lover** – Thanks x 1000 for the review! Glad you loved it!_

_Read? Then Review! [just click the little purple button saying GO!]_

_Yours Faithfully Fanfictional,_

_Firemoon_


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